


Old Age

by kitkatkaylie



Series: Jonmund Summer 2020 [5]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Day 5, Jon lives Beyond the Wall, Jonmund Summer 2020, M/M, Mention of Character Death, Old Age, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:01:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26157721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitkatkaylie/pseuds/kitkatkaylie
Summary: Jon and Tormund were old now, and with age had come frailty for the once great warrior.Written for Jonmund Summer 2020 Day 5: In Canon
Relationships: Tormund Giantsbane/Jon Snow
Series: Jonmund Summer 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1893670
Comments: 3
Kudos: 45





	Old Age

Jon was old.

It was something he’d never expected to be, he’d expected to live until his hair went white and his faced became more wrinkled and cragged than even Old Nan. 

It had been a good life though, in the end, once the battles were fought and all responsibility lifted from his shoulders. He had been content, living Beyond the Wall with his husband and direwolf and the host of orphans they had cared for over the years.

He had been content, travelling South to visit his sisters and brother and the nieces and nephews they had produced. There was something good about hearing the halls of Winterfell ring with children’s laughter once more, something that settled peacefully in Jon’s chest at the reminder that his family had won and were safe; that they did not need him there to fight for them any more. 

Sansa had passed now, gone in her sleep surrounded by her children and grandchildren and secure in her legacy. 

Deep in Jon’s bones he had known that her funeral would be the last time he would ever see his siblings again, that he was too old to make the long trip South any more, just as Bran could no longer make the trip North leaving Arya behind, the last child of Eddard Stark in Winterfell. His and Bran’s bones would rest there though when they passed, carried there to rest in the crypt with their ancestors beside the first Queen in the North. 

Jon’s statue would be crowned, just as Robb’s had been, although it had been an age since the crown of Winter had rested upon his brow. He had been the King to lead them through the Long Night though, the King who saved them from the Night King and the Dragon Queen. And he would be remembered for those deeds rather than the deeds he was happiest with. 

He did not begrudge such a thing though, not when his many years had taught him that the exciting stories were those which were remembered, not the boring but happy life of the king who had given up his crown.

It would be a few years, if the gods were willing, before such an event would happen though. He felt none of the bone deep weariness that his sister had spoken of before her death, the weariness his husband spoke of as he lay upon the furs in their home.

Ever since Jon had realised he was old he had expected this day to come. He was not so naive to believe that he and Tormund would leave the world together, not now there were no great battles where they fought side by side. And deep in his heart he had known that Tormund would likely go before him, his husband being older by a decade and who had suddenly looked frail once he reached his eightieth year.

Now at eighty five Tormund was so frail there was no way to deny it: he was dying.

He slipped into sleep more often than not, his eyes sliding closed without permission even while they were in the middle of a conversation. He lost himself in memories of days gone by, remembrances of battles won and of past conquests. 

The bear was brought up a lot.

Jon loved his husband though, white hair and fading mind and all. The skin of his face may have become thin and wrinkled, but his blue eyes were as bright as ever, and his laugh had not changed, it still filled the room the same way it had when they first met.

Jon loved his husband, and he was terrified of going on without him.

“I see you brooding there, my little crow.” Tormund called out to Jon, love infused in his voice, “You still brood like you did as a green boy trying to be a man and trailing after Ygritte.”

Jon laughed and moved to sit on the furs by his husband’s side, “That was half a century ago my love, back when you were kissed by fire instead of snow.”

“I have been kissed many times by Snow.” Tormund leered, his eyebrows waggling.

“That joke was bad the first time you made it.” Jon batted at his arm, “And it is no funnier now.”

“I don’t know what you mean. I am hilarious. All the little ones laugh at my jokes.”

A soft smile touched Jon’s face, “They are humouring you, my love.”

“Humouring me? Never! No one would dare humour the great Tormund Giantsbane!”

Jon knew his husband was not serious, he could see it in his eyes, he knew that Tormund knew he was being humoured when the young listened to his stories again and again without complaint.

“If you so say.” 

Tormund’s laughing eyes met his, as though he knew he was being humoured, but then they turned serious.

“I fear I am not long for this world, my little crow.” A large hand came and cradled Jon’s cheek, “I have had a long life, a good life, with you at my side these past years. I don’t want you to be sad when o go.”

Jon pressed his face into the hand cradling him and felt tears well up, “I don’t want you to go.”

“And I don’t want to go, I don’t want to leave you.” Tormund’s thumb brushed a tear from under his eye, “But we don’t have a choice. Everyone dies my love, and not all of us are lucky enough to be brought back by a witch.”

Jon could not say anything to that, could not refute the truth of Tormund’s words. He lay down beside his husband instead, tucking himself under the furs and cuddling into Tormund’s side, his great warmth.

“I love you.” He whispered.

“And I love you too Jon Snow, don’t you ever forget it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Find me on tumblr @istaricelebelasse


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